Silver City
by delta sun bottleneck stomp
Summary: blair, chuck, nate, and serena. before gossip girl. possibly one shot.


"This is so _fucking_ stupid. Why does my mother insist on seating us at the kids' table? Still? We're fourteen, and -- God, these chairs are too small!" Blair Waldorf threw her fork down and glared at her blonde companion, who was beaming at her cheerfully, obviously used to the outburst. "Blair, it's Christmas! Lighten up," Serena van der Woodsen replied, taking a bite of her wheat roll and eyeing Blair, who was pushing her food around her plate unhappily.

"Anyone up for getting a bottle of champagne from the liquor cabinet and going downstairs? This sucks." A tall, dark-headed boy questioned to no one in particular, but he was looking at the two girls primarily, with a dancing gaze. Nate Archibald grinned crookedly as Serena sighed in relief, "I was waiting for someone to say that. Lead the way, Chuck," she said, tossing her napkin onto the table and standing. Blair watched her friends with a dark gaze. "Go ahead, I'll be right there." She mumbled - everyone was used to her mood swings, and not even her best friend asked her what was wrong as the trio traipsed downstairs to raid Eleanor's kitchen cupboards.

An unsettling feeling was in Blair's stomach - she'd eaten three eclairs fifteen minutes ago, and taken a swig of non-diet Coca-Cola. The feeling of the pure calories sitting there, just waiting to be stored into her fat cells, made her take a deep breath and rise to her feet, purposefully walking the opposite direction of where her friends had just headed to and making a beeline for the farthest bathroom from the crowd. She didn't want her guests to hear her gagging up her dessert, after all.

I am disgusting, she thought as she got on her knees to stare at the clean, shiny toilet that she was sure barely anyone even used. Her heart raced, she got restless - the telltale signs that told her she needed to get everything out of her stomach. Her body was practically ordering her to get rid of it; she was always good at following rules. Pulling her meticulously curled hair back into a tight ponytail and wiping her bright red lip gloss on the back of her hand (it was a habit, especially if the gloss was cherry flavored. She didn't feel so uncomfortable heaving up her food when she tasted her own cherry lip product on her tongue), Blair assumed the position, mechanically shoving her middle and index finger down her throat as far as they could go and closing her eyes, as they had started to water.

She couldn't imagine how she looked in this horrible situation; she prayed to God that no one would ever see her so vulnerable. After thirty seconds of painfully jabbing at the inside of her mouth - she counted - she finally felt the horrible food making it's way forward and embraced it fully. It rushed through her and she didn't even get the unpleasant taste of vomit, she noted. The food was newly eaten and tasted the same way coming up as it did going down.

When moments had passed of simply emptying her stomach, she shamefully flushed the toilet and sniffed, catching her breath before standing shakily and washing her hands. When she opened the counter drawer, she saw the comforting bottle of Listerine sitting there, innocently. Travel-sized bottles could be found in her purses, and family-sized bottles were carefully placed on the back shelves of all the restrooms in the house. She liked the painful sting of the mouthwash rinsing her abused throat, liked that all traces of food had been erased from her tongue, her teeth, and her stomach. She felt clean, for once, like she was finally doing something right, even if no one but herself ever knew about her nasty habit.

Now that that's finished, she thought thankfully, feeling refreshed, something has to be done about my horrible face.

Her mascara had run (why hadn't she used waterproof?), her cheeks were blushing a bright red, and her lips were bare. After preening for a few minutes, dabbing a tissue under her eyes and pulling out a tube of gloss from the pocket of her skirt, she cleared her throat and straightened her blouse. Good. This was good.

Well, not really, because it was completely disgusting at the same time, but it did make her feel happy. It was her secret, and there was nothing wrong with that. Even the most perfect of people had a few, tiny skeletons in their closets, right? Besides, she only did it when she really needed to. Like on her birthday a few months ago, when her mother ordered an ice cream cake for her and she ended up eating two slices. Or when her father and she were out to dinner and he insisted on sharing a serving of tiramisu. It's not like she had to tell anyone - not even Serena. It wasn't a big deal, anyways.

Stepping out of the bathroom and letting her hair down from it's ponytail, she gingerly padded up the stairs to her room, where she heard her friends talking and laughing. "Found the champagne?" She called, opening the door and seeing her three favorite people sitting on her bed with the TV on, sipping from flutes and eating club crackers.

Chuck nodded, holding up his half-empty glass before pointing to the Balthazar bottle on the night stand. "Oh, good, Cristal." Blair chirped, her eyes following Serena's blonde mane as her friend walked toward her large window and opened it, letting the cold Winter air into Blair's room. Fishing a pack of Parliaments from her leather jacket pocket, she stared at Fifth Avenue with large, navy blue eyes and played with her silver Zippo, her bright pink nails catching Blair's gaze. Her counterpart looked like a model; voluminous flaxen hair askew in just the right places, long legs clad in a pair of gray tights splayed out in front of her, face turned to the window and her tan, glowing skin that never seemed to pale, even in the dead of Winter.

Sometimes, Blair hated her. Instead of glaring at her best friend, she closed the door behind her and walked towards the window as well, "Hey, Serena, give me one." She would rather have the smell of cigarettes in her mouth than vomit.

A few hours and an empty bottle of Cristal later, Serena was finishing her pack of Parliaments and chatting on her cellphone with some boy she'd met in Brooklyn last weekend. Nate and Chuck were rolling a joint and Blair was on her computer, playing an online puzzle game with a monotonous expression on her face. A typical night, and even though all were acting blase and nonchalant, they really were glad to be together.

"You guys, my room is a mess." Blair said, swiveling around in her computer chair to watch her three best friends, who were all otherwise occupied, but at the sound of her voice lifted their eyes from whatever they were doing. "Nice eyeshadow, Nate." She added with a little more humor, wondering how the two boys had found her stash of makeup and managed to put it on eachother (quite badly). Nate grinned boyishly and tried his hardest to bat his eyelashes at Blair, making her laugh and Chuck roll his eyes distastefully. No one could take him seriously when he had bright fuschia lipstick on, though.

"--- okay, I gotta go. All right. 'Bye." Serena flipped her cellphone shut and smiled at the trio. "He is so cute." She said to no one in particular, stubbing her cigarette and tossing it out the window to walk over to Blair. "Did I show you his Myspace? You'll die; he's gorgeous." Those few words sent the teenage girls into a flurry of giggles and estrogen-fueled gossip, as Serena logged onto her Myspace account.

A few moments later, their simultaneous sighs of agreement were heard when Blair saw his profile picture. Chuck and Nate had tuned them out, trying drunkenly to light their joint and failing multiple times. "God dammit." Chuck muttered, always pessimistic when wasted. He stood and walked towards the window, closing it dramatically and smearing the lipstick across his face in agitation. "It's fucking freezing in here. Turn on the heater, Blair," He said, only to be ignored.

"You're right, he is cute,"

"I know! He asked me out for next Saturday, I think I'm gonna go."

"What are you gonna wear?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm thinking something kind of sexy, kind of casual, you know, it _is_ Brooklyn --"

"Got it!" Nate cried, as the joint lit and his eyes filled with glory. Chuck grinned. "Okay, Nathaniel, seriously, the first hit is like heaven..."

--------------

"Oh my God, Blair, do you remember when we walked in on Chuck making out with that girl?"

"She was such a slut. Chuck, she was a slut; why do you have such bad taste in women?"

"You're both bitches. She was hot."

Nate shook his head at his friends, their faces illuminated by the Tahitian moon and their cheeks flushed by the Petron shots they'd taken hours earlier. Their Spring break turned out to be much more fun than they'd expected. Eleanor and Harold Waldorf were planning to visit the French Polynesia for their daughter's two-week vacation from school, and, knowing Blair, she begged her three companions to keep her company. How could they refuse?

"I'll be right back, does anyone want something from the kitchen?" Serena's voice snapped Nate out of his reverie as he drew his eyes to her. "Just a glass of water for me." Blair responded as if she was speaking to a waitress. "Yes, master." Serena grinned and stepped out of the hot tub and onto the wood paneling of their suite balcony. He watched Chuck examine the blonde's glowing body, scantily clad, and resisted rolling his eyes, even though he was pretty sure he was thinking the same thing. Serena was perfect.

"You know what's so disgusting?" Blair inquired, splashing the warm water around with her palms. "That my parents are probably up in their room fucking or some kinky shit like that." She looked at the two boys with expectancy, as if hoping to see disgust on their faces. "Damn, Blair. I didn't need that mental image." Chuck mumbled with a small laugh, as Serena sauntered back towards them, talking animatedly on the phone -- as usual.

She held out the glass of water to Blair absently. "Yeah, yeah, her parents are asleep, it'll be fine. Yeah. Yeah, bring friends, we're bored. Okay. All right. 'Bye!" Snapping her phone shut, she flashed the trio a smile. "Hey, so, remember those guys I met at the pool yesterday? They're gonna come over. They'll be quiet, they'll bring hot girls for Chuck and Nate, it'll be fun. No stress. Okay?" Deep breath. Nod. Smile. Get back in the hot tub. Serena could be so persuasive sometimes. "Okay." Blair repeated with a sigh, sipping her water. "So, anyways. What were you guys talking about?" Serena looked at Nate with large eyes. "Blair's parent's fucking."

Two hours later, Blair found herself sitting on a stranger boy's lap in the corner, wondering when she had turned into the kind of girl that made out with random guys while her mother and father slept upstairs. There was a point in the night when she ha decided to let go -- for once. And it was fantastic. She didn't know where Serena was, or what time it was; all she knew was that this boy had such pretty bedroom eyes and the most adorable smile. She woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a phone number written on the back of her hand.

--------------

It was the first week of summer, and Serena had already passed out. "Too much weed." Chuck had proclaimed, all knowing and wise. He and Nate had brought her to the guest room in Chuck's suite, tucking her in like a child and turning off the lights behind them. Blair sat on the edge of Chuck's bed, with a bored expression.

There were two brunette girls that he had invited over, and they had taken all of his attention. They were still here, slutting up the place and dancing to bad rap music in the living room. Chuck disappeared to join them. Blair rolled her eyes and looked at Nate, who was closing the door quietly behind Serena's sleeping form. "I guess it's just you and me," He said with a hushed tone. She smiled and stood. "Yeah. I might just go home, actually." She replied, smoothing her hair instinctively and looking down at her black eyelet romper. Everything in place. She'd thrown up her champagne and pasta earlier, ritualistically rinsed her mouth with Listerine, and she was feeling nice.

"Don't go," Nate pleaded, frowning. "Here, come on. I gotta show you something," His eyes lit up and he grabbed her wrist. She got nervous. She didn't do well when she was alone with Nate; there was always so much one-sided tension on her part, because he was so cute, but he was also one of her best friends. She was no Serena, that was for sure.

He pulled her out of the suite and into the hallway, leading her confidently up a stairwell. "Okay, Nate, where are we going?"

"The roof,"

"I've been on roofs before." She muttered. "It's nothing special."

Nate smirked at her pushing an old, gray door open, "Blair, just relax." As soon as she felt the night air hit her, she obeyed. Her shoulders fell and she slowed her pace, trailing behind Nate with only a little bit of curiosity. "All right, show me what's so great about this." She proclaimed, amusement dancing in her eyes.

They walked forward, and met a large railing - the end of the roof. They were so high up, she thought.

Then, she registered what was in front of her.

It was so amazing, she almost cried.

The lit up skyline of Manhattan was possibly the most magnificent thing Blair had ever seen. This was her home. This was her city. At two A.M., with Nate by her side, she thought she saw heaven. Nate was smug, she knew. He'd proved her wrong. At this point, it didn't faze her. They stood in silence for what seemed like hours, but she knew it'd probably only been fifteen minutes.

"I could stay up here all night." She announced, her eyes fixated on the lights of New York. The wind was blowing, and for a moment, Blair thought she was really in a movie this time. Nate wasn't watching the city below - he was watching her.

"Blair?"

"Mm?"

"You're beautiful."

Blair's trance was broken slightly. In his voice, she heard something different. They'd never shared a tone like that with eachother. She smiled slightly. "Thank you, Nate."

"I'm not kidding, Blair," He mumbled, his eyes soft as he looked at her. She slowly brought her gaze to his. This is just like a movie, she thought. She'd never kissed Nate before; always thought about it, of course. Who wouldn't? But he was always so enamored with Serena, she gave up her fairytale dream with him a long time ago. But now, as she searched his face, she wondered if he was finally seeing her like he saw her best friend.

So she leaned in and closed the gap between them, before her erratically beating heart could talk her out of it. The summer wind almost seemed to want to push them apart, but she fought it, her hands on his shoulders. She had no doubt he would kiss her back, and she was right. Fireworks went off behind her eyes, her whole body shook as she realized what she was doing. She was kissing Nathaniel Archibald.

Serena would be so damn jealous.


End file.
